


⤬✫ Starcrossed ✫⤬

by OneBizarreKai



Category: Undertale (Fandom), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Characters are portrayed as human, Fanon Post-Underverse, Hate to Love™, M/M, Short Story, Yes I wrote this, angsty comedy, cream is dead we only know starcrossed, it's h e r e, more like fast incineration, these two have problems, what is slow burn, what this ship should be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-07-07 00:43:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15897429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneBizarreKai/pseuds/OneBizarreKai
Summary: ☆ star-crossed  [ ˈstɑr ˌkrɔst ]☐ adjective - literary☐ (of a person or place) thwarted by bad luck.Especially when that bad luck involves ending up alone at home with your least favorite person who also happens to be the only other person who's still single in the vicinity.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As a note, this takes place within a fanon post-Underverse where Dream, Nightmare, Ink, Error, Blueberry (from Errortale) and Cross have (… mostly) made up and live together in a less evil version of Nightmare's castle.
> 
> Yes, this is finally here. I wrote something for this ship that I now call Starcrossed as the actual ship name. Because I strongly dislike and disagree with the generic interpretation of Cross/Dream, I made it better by redoing their questionably bad characterizations and gave it a new ship name to distinguish it. Like… I changed it a lot.
> 
> I made it fun. :)

The shipping forces had taken them all. All four of his other friends, also known as his roommates at this point. He didn’t know how it happened. Truly, the forces were nothing to be reckoned with, but he thought they were immune. There was no way this could happen.  
  
No way, right?  
  
Dream wasn’t bitter about it. At least, he wanted to convince himself that he wasn’t. He was proud of his brother. Proud that he found someone to love. Hell, it was a miracle that they managed to turn him back to normal after all the shit they went through.  
  
But that someone was _supposed_ to be Cross.  
  
Not Ink.  
  
Sure, they were a good match. Dream didn’t have anything against Ink–well, anymore. He was so happy for them; they had so much in common, so much that he didn’t even realize. In good ways and bad ways. But… mostly in good ways! It’s not like this was a bad thing, right? Those two were totally going to help each other become better, and it wasn’t going to result in any kind of disaster, nope, none at all, they were totally over that…  
  
And Blue and Error? Yep, totally a good thing too! Error needed someone who was patient with him, and those two had a rough history but they were working it out. Dream saw it coming a mile away. Those two always had this connection, he could sense it. Even if it wasn’t always a good connection. Now it would be.  
  
With those four coupled up, that just left…  
  
Dream’s hand was shaking above his journal. He started to subconsciously write ‘shit’ over and over on the page. When he snapped back to his senses, he realize that his journal entry was looking a bit manic.  
  
The shipping forces were active. _Active_.  
  
And they were out for their next victims.  
  
Dream put his head on the table, burying his head in his arms. He was so screwed. _So. Screwed._  
  
He wasn’t supposed to end up with Cross. This was ALL WRONG.  
  
Of everyone living in their damn house, Cross was the one he could tolerate the least. Yes, he was perfect for Nightmare. Dream knew his brother better than anyone. Their personalities clicked just as they should have.  
  
So _why_ didn’t they end up together?  
  
Dream didn’t even care if he personally ended up with anyone. He went like five hundred years without a significant other, he sure as hell didn’t need one now. But thanks to the damn shipping forces, and six people living under one roof, that equaled three couples and there was no escaping it. Even if Dream ended up immune, how would he know that Cross was?  
  
All he could hope was that Cross also ended up being immune. Maybe that’s why he didn’t end up with Nightmare to begin with.  
  
Thank god. Cross was so childish and obnoxious, and Dream could barely put up with him as a roommate, much less as someone susceptible to the shipping forces in his general direction.  
  
There’s no way Cross would ever like him, either. Dream could tell that Cross didn’t like him. They were polar opposites, somehow even more than himself and Nightmare or Error and Ink. Even their basic opinions tended to clash, and more often than not, they would end up in ridiculous debates.  
  
How dare Cross say pineapple belonged on pizza.  
  
Dream thought, maybe there was a solution to this. Maybe he could just go… take a vacation while this blew over. Maybe the shipping forces would get bored and leave. Was that how it worked?  
  
Was there any point in trying to escape?  
  
No. He couldn’t give up so quickly. Maybe he was freaking out for no reason. Maybe Cross was immune after all. That was only practical. It was a higher than half chance after he and Nightmare didn’t end up together after everything those two had been through.  
  
… Or was that why it didn’t happen? Could Cross only see Nightmare as his temporary boss? Could Nightmare only see him as someone who worked for him? Maybe Cross reminded Nightmare of all the horrible things he did. Maybe that was it!  
  
Well, Cross reminded Dream of all the horrible things that _Cross_ did.  
  
Even though so much time had passed since then, and Cross seemed to convince everyone else that he was a ‘changed man’, even _without_ Chara influencing him anymore, he was still a douchebag and Dream was having an unusually difficult time forgiving him. He caused so much suffering in so little time. He was so selfish, the things he did; all he cared about was his own AU, tearing down everyone and everything in his path just to get what he wanted.  
  
Cross told everyone that it was Chara making him act that way.  
  
Sure. That’s what people like him always did, blaming their actions on others.  
  
Dream could read his feelings, for god’s sake. He couldn’t hide under statements like that. If anything, Cross needed some damn therapy already. But since Cross didn’t like him very much, it wasn’t like he would listen. He would probably just take it as some kind of insult.  
  
Why hadn’t he gotten therapy since the X-Event, anyway?  
  
Oh, right. He tried, but he scared off the therapist.  
  
In any case, Dream knew he had to start somewhere with this. At any cost, he didn’t want… Cross falling in love with him or something. Eugh. And perhaps, that started with awareness.  
  
Dream knew that the shipping force wasn’t in his head, but he was the only one who seemed to be able to recognize it. He _knew_ it was real. And even if Cross didn’t believe him, it was worth trying to tell him, so if anything strange happened, _then_ Cross would start believing him, and he would see it coming, and he could prevent it somehow.  
  
Right?

* * *

“… A shipping force?” Cross asked slowly. “HAH! Are you out of your mind? I thought I was the crazy one.”  
  
“But don’t you see it?” Dream asked him quietly. “Nightmare and Ink. Blue and Error. They both just… SUDDENLY got together. I’ve seen this before. It’s real. I _feel_ it. And it’s coming after us.”  
  
“Yeah, you definitely sound crazy,” Cross told him.  
  
“You don’t understand,” Dream continued. “I made a prediction. But it didn’t do what I thought it was going to do. And suddenly, it’s left me in a really bad position. No, it’s left _us_ in a really bad position.”  
  
Cross looked confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“We’re the last two.”  
  
Cross furrowed his brow.  
  
“Okay, no, you’re insane,” he said quickly, turning around. “Bullshit. Nope. _Ew_.”  
  
“Tell me about it, you’re not alone,” Dream said, letting out a huff of air. “The shipping forces aren’t a joke, though. They _will_ get us if we’re not careful. As such, we’re staying the fuck away from each other. Or rather, they might get _you_. I’m fairly immune to it.”  
  
“Me? They might get me?” Cross asked, turning back around. He scoffed. “Yeah right. I’m not stupid enough to be influenced by some stupid force. I could cancel out the influence of a vindictive psychopath mixed into my soul, mind you.”  
  
“But not for very long, apparently?” Dream asked.  
  
He paused, seeing the look on Cross’s face.  
  
Shit, he should not have said that.  
  
“Would you shut the fuck up for once?” Cross snapped, walking closer to him and getting in his face. “You’re so damn full of yourself. You ran around and hid while everyone was getting fucked over. You _really_ think you’re Mister Perfect? You could’ve done something. You could’ve HELPED ME. But no. You were too busy feeding your own ego by distracting yourself from all the shit you did wrong.”  
  
“Dude, geez, I’m sorry,” Dream told him, holding his hands up. “Calm down, I didn’t mean to–”  
  
“No. No, no. Of course you meant to say that. Because you don’t make mistakes, do you?” Cross asked him. “You’re just trying to tell me that I’m overreacting. That I did something wrong. Because I _always_ did something wrong!”  
  
Suddenly, Nightmare entered the room, pushing Cross away from Dream. “Cross, what the fuck are you doing?” he asked. “Are you out of your mind?”  
  
“Yeah! Yeah, maybe I am!” Cross hissed. “Because I’m always overreacting!”  
  
Dream opened his mouth to speak again, but his words got stuck in his throat. Yet, before Cross could say anything else, Nightmare’s hand flew up to his forehead.  
  
“Hey, wha–don’t–” Cross started, but suddenly, his expression relaxed and his breathing evened out. He collapsed forward, Nightmare catching him. “… fuck.”  
  
“Do you need some hot chocolate?” Nightmare asked, pushing him back up. “I’ll make you some.”  
  
Cross exhaled steadily. “… yes please.”  
  
Dream let out a steady sigh of relief.  
  
He was glad that conflict was over, but he wasn’t feeling at ease by any means. Nightmare just saved his ass… for the umpteenth time. Why was it that, even after all this time, and even after they had successfully brought Nightmare _back_ from his condition, Nightmare was back to solving his problems? Dream should’ve been able to manage that on his own. Why couldn’t he do anything?  
  
That aside, though…  
  
Why. Weren’t. Nightmare and Cross. TOGETHER.  
  
Seeing interactions like that almost made Dream sad, because they were so perfect. Moments like that when Nightmare could help Cross calm down by purposefully draining out his excess negative emotions? They sounded like the perfect bait for the shipping forces. The fact that the forces threatened to exert themselves onto him and Cross instead almost made him sick. Why would it subject them to that when there were much better options? Nightmare and Cross got along so well, while Dream and Cross…  
  
… well, their relationship was pretty obvious.  
  
The shipping forces must’ve just been sadistic. Thirsty for suffering this time around.  
  
Thirsty for a _hateship_.  
  
Dream did not want to subject himself to that kind of mental torture, and he was positive that Cross didn’t, either.  
  
Dream had to remind himself of how happy Nightmare was with Ink. He was happy. And he wasn’t going to doubt that, or disagree with it. Nightmare’s happiness made him happy. And if he wasn’t going to be with Cross, so be it!  
  
Dream just _refused_ to accept that the other candidate might be himself.  
  
It just felt _wrong_.  
  
Besides, there was no way that he could even manage such a situation. Their personalities clearly conflicted in every way, and if Cross was hating him for reasons that weren’t even true, that was already bad news.  
  
Sure, it would’ve been nice for their relationship to be a little less difficult. The two of them living under the same roof like this proved to be hell. Cross had never snapped like that before, but there had been times where it seemed like he would.  
  
And he’d only been living with them for a _month_.

* * *

The next day…  
  
“Cross, what the hell did you do the window?”  
  
Cross swung his head back from the chair he was on, eyes narrowed towards the gold-eyed one in front of him. Dream was tugging on the window shade string of the living room’s main window to no avail, giving him an impatient look.  
  
“I didn’t do shit,” he claimed, letting out a loud sigh and sitting back up to look at his 3DS again. “I just tied it up because it wouldn’t stay open. You probably untied it wrong or something.”  
  
“It won’t open again,” Dream told him.  
  
Dream gave the string a yank and the shade almost entirely disconnected from the window frame, loudly crashing down and most of it tumbling to the floor.  
  
“Oh shit,” he said, stepping back quickly. “Cross, literally what the hell did you do.”  
  
“I said I didn’t do anything!” Cross insisted, rolling his eyes. “It was already a piece of shit!”  
  
Nightmare entered the living room, holding a cup of coffee.  
  
“Why do I keep hearing shit in here,” he said. “Dream, did you break the shade?”  
  
“Cross broke it first,” Dream told him.  
  
“No I didn’t!” Cross argued. “Dream just yanked on it and it broke!”  
  
“After you fricked it up!”  
  
“Are you guys in _kindergarten_?” Nightmare asked, disbelief in his tone. “You’re acting like little kids! It’s a goddamn window shade! We needed to replace that thing, anyway!”  
  
Ink poked his head through the doorway. “Hey guys, what’s going on?” he asked, entering the room. “Sounds like conflict.”  
  
“Dream broke the sha–“ Cross started.  
  
“– _Not_ important,” Nightmare interrupted him.  
  
“Man. What’s up with you guys getting into random fights over things that aren’t important all the time?” Ink asked bluntly.  
  
“Dream likes to blame everything on me for some stupid reason,” Cross replied, still playing his game.  
  
“Cross likes to _victimize himself_!” Dream huffed. “That’s all he ever does!”  
  
“Looks guys, I have trouble understanding emotions and even I can tell that there are problems on both ends of the spectrum here,” Ink said. “You guys are like, direct examples of the polar ends of the lawful-chaotic spectrum.”  
  
“I am _not_ a pure lawful,” Dream answered. “I stole a box of donuts last week because I wanted them.”  
  
“I stole a grand piano,” Cross said, raising his hand briefly. “I vandalized two barns, set an old building on fire and stole a bunch of shopping carts just to fill Chara’s garage with them. And that was just last week. I also sleep shirtless, reply to text messages with ‘k’ and I think that A Link to the Past is overrated.”  
  
“That’s my boy,” Ink said, snapping his fingers in Cross’s direction.  
  
“Oh, I see how it is,” Dream grumbled. “Everyone else is chaotic, so being neutral makes you lawful.”  
  
Ink shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”  
  
“Well, _anyway_ ,” Nightmare started, letting out a sigh. “You guys better start getting along, because you’re gonna have to tolerate each other for a few days while we’re away.”  
  
Dream blinked. “Wait, what? You’re going away?” he asked, moving towards him.  
  
“Yeah. Ink and I are going on vacation tomorrow, and Error and Blue happen to be doing the same thing. We all just decided to go at the same time since it was happening anyway.”  
  
Cross finally looked up from his game system, sitting up. “Wait, you can’t leave me here with him!” he complained, pointing at Dream.  
  
“Yes I can, and I’m going to. And I expect the castle to still be standing when I get back. You’re adults, so I trust you to be adults.”  
  
“Take me with youuuu,” Dream whined, holding his arms out. He slumped forward dramatically. Nightmare stepped up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and leading him closer towards the door, the two of them facing away from the rest of the room.  
  
“Listen, Dream,” he started a bit more quietly. “I need you to watch the place while I’m gone. Okay? Plus, I really think all our lives would be easier if you learned to get along with Cross.”  
  
“Nightmare, I try!” Dream insisted. “He’s so… argumentative! Sometimes I feel like he hates me just because I’m not you!”  
  
Nightmare sighed. “Cross is trying, all right? I know he’s impulsive but maybe you can help him. He wasn’t…” He looked back at Cross for a moment, who was already not paying attention again and had returned to his game. “He wasn’t taught things growing up. He just needs patience from people. You don’t have to let him do whatever he wants but there are better and worse ways to handle things. Plus…” Nightmare leaned up to his ear, whispering. “His weakness is food. Especially those that include chocolate.”  
  
Dream let out an exasperated hum. “I guess I’ll take that into consideration.”

* * *

This was unfair.  
  
What were the chances of this?  
  
What were the chances that Ink and Nightmare and Error _and_ Blueberry were all going to go on vacation at once?  
  
Dream hated to doubt his brother, but did Nightmare plan this just to put Dream in a situation where he would have to get along with Cross? Did Nightmare _know_ just how bad this was, and did he do it because of it or because he didn’t know about it?  
  
Dream legitimately felt at risk from this. Not because of the shipping forces, but because it was Cross. He always had this air about him like he was ready to attack him at all times, and Dream was beginning to believe that he actually might.  
  
Sure, he and Cross could discuss this and swear to stay out of each other’s ways until everyone else got back home, but Dream, knowing his luck, would probably run into some kind of trouble regardless.  
  
… Maybe it would easier to just take this as a challenge to try and be more patient with him after all. It was irritating, but perhaps that was his best option.  
  
Plus, if he miraculously managed to make Cross hate him even the slightest bit less, maybe he would be more likely to listen to reason and Dream could actually help him be a more reasonable person in general.  
  
Dream took a deep breath, repeatedly poking his journal’s paper with his pen.  
  
Who was he kidding?  
  
He wasn’t going to be Cross’s damn therapist. That asshole could sort out his own problems, and it was not Dream’s job to fix them. Maybe Dream was just extra bitter because of how inexplicably tired he was that evening, but his opinion of Cross had been fairly consistent–if anything, only growing worse.  
  
Dream took a deep breath, leaning back in his chair. He could do this. It was only a few days. Besides, he could most certainly leave the castle at any point if he needed to.  
  
He just had to have a little patience and confidence, right?

* * *

They were waving their four roommates off at the castle’s entrance the next morning. Neither Cross nor Dream spoke a word to each other, but without a doubt, many things were already running through both their heads.  
  
The other four disappeared through large portal, Nightmare’s final statement being “Don’t blow anything up,” before they were all gone.  
  
Cross and Dream slowly eyed each other.  
  
“Is there something we should be discussing?” Dream asked.  
  
“I don’t know. Is there?” Cross replied.  
  
Dream narrowed his eyes. “You know what I mean. We’re staying away from each other to minimize destruction and emotional stress.”  
  
Cross tilted his head slightly. “Oh yeah, your brother’s not here to save your sorry ass anymore,” he said boredly. “Gotta set some guidelines, don’t we?”  
  
“Why are you already being difficult?” Dream asked him.  
  
“Why do you think there’s any point in trying to communicate with me?” Cross questioned. “Just go mind your own fucking business for once.”  
  
Dream could feel blood rush to his head, but he forced himself to keep his mouth shut. Cross let out a huff of air, turning on his heel and pushing the doors of the castle open to reenter.  
  
“… Fine. I’ll mind my own fucking business, then,” Dream mumbled as the doors closed.

* * *

They only lasted about one day. Consistent inadvertent interactions happened over the course of the next eighteen hours, and one small interaction grew slightly too long and a snide comment slipped out on Dream’s side yet again. Apparently, Cross snapped from that.  
  
“I am so fucking tired of your bullshit,” Cross spat, storming over to him. “If you’re so tough, prove it now. Prove it right now. Because right now, I have reason to believe that you’re a pathetic weakling who does nothing but hide behind others and leech off them.”  
  
“Why are you trying to provoke me?” Dream asked. “What did I do? Seriously. What the fuck did I do.”  
  
“Why are you even trying to play clueless? I see it every damn day! Everyone who talks about you says the same thing! You never take care of your own problems and always pit them on other people! Especially your brother! He deserves better than you!” Cross snapped.  
  
He went there. Dream lost it.  
  
“That’s because they’re all misguided FUCKFACES!” Dream shouted. “Let me guess. Those are the same people who were trying to hunt me down so they could  _sell me_ to Nightmare back when he was evil. Or maybe they’re the same people who thought I was a self-absorbed little bitch who did everything for attention and manipulated people with my aura to get what I want. You think this is true, ‘X-event’? All this popular bullshit? Are we just gonna go ahead and assume the worst here? I wasn’t popular! Most people wanted me dead for literally no reason! Fuck, they probably still do! I was minding my own merry fucking business trying to SAVE MY BROTHER FROM THE PHYSICAL EMBODIMENT OF DARKNESS AND EVIL THAT HAD TAKEN OVER HIM and maybe HELP SOME PEOPLE ALONG THE WAY and everyone was trying to fucking kill me!”  
  
Dream was breathing heavily, staring Cross in the eye. Cross’s brows were raised, as if a bit surprised from Dream’s extensive and vulgar outburst.  
  
“Wow, splendid performance,” Cross said sarcastically, clapping slowly. “I am so thrilled listening to you make excuses.”  
  
“You are the fucking worst! Did you even hear a single thing I said?!” Dream yelled. “Are you just looking for reasons to hate me?! Y’know, maybe I should start doing that too since you’re SO desperate to do this to me. But I don’t even have to fucking look because the reasons are RIGHT IN MY FACE.”  
  
“Victim,” Cross said. Now he just sounded like he was doing it on purpose.  
  
And it was working.  
  
Dream promptly punched Cross in the face. He stood there, head turned from the impact, and nose bleeding.  
  
“… so that’s how we’re gonna play,” Cross said under his breath, turning his head slowly forward again. A smile seemed to be twitching on his face.  
  
His fist came flying towards Dream, and Dream’s reflexes kicking in, he barely ducked out of the way. Frustrated by this, Cross grabbed hold of the front of Dream’s shirt and slammed him into the wall hard enough for it to hurt.  
  
“You’re really making me look like a victim now,” Dream growled.  
  
“Oh, that’s not the _point_ anymore,” Cross replied. He drove his fist into Dream’s stomach and threw him to the ground before proceeding to kick him.  
  
Okay, this was bad now.  
  
“Run away. Get your phone, and call for help. I dare you,” Cross hissed. “Prove my point.”  
  
“You’re fucking insane…!” Dream choked out. “Maybe… you…”  
  
Cross crouched down, lifting up Dream’s head by his hair, the other grunting in pain.  
  
“Maybe I could what, Dream?” Cross asked.  
  
“Maybe you could prove… that you’re not a violent… sociopathic juvenile _asshole_ by stopping this insanity!”  
  
“You started it,” Cross told him.  
  
“JUVENILE!” Dream repeated, slamming his fist into the ground.  
  
“Oh, please. I hate to say this, but I might actually be enjoying this… so like, y’know, give me your worst. I think you’d rather do just the same anyway.”  
  
Dream let out a huff of air, still trying to stabilize his breathing.  
  
Cross was a madman.  
  
Dream pushed himself up, Cross watching somewhat lazily, as if not expecting much. His eyes only had a moment to go wide as Dream inhaled sharply and launched himself into Cross, taking him to the floor. Cross landed almost rotated, his stomach on the floor. Dream was lying on his back, pinning his arms behind him already.  
  
“Dude, what the fu–“ Cross started, struggling a bit, only to realize he couldn’t move.  
  
At all.  
  
“Hey! You can’t do that!” Cross shouted, struggling more. His arms were stuck under Dream and he couldn’t budge.  
  
“Oh, but I can,” Dream answered.  
  
Frankly, Dream was getting sick of this, so, unsure of the consequences it would actually bring, he started to freely exert his aura on Cross to hopefully calm him down. Not that he was sure it would work, but it would at least do something, right?  
  
Oh, no. Nope, that would not calm him down. All someone would have to do is cling onto their feelings in order to fight it, which was easy if they knew how to recognize the aura. And Cross very much seemed to be doing that.  
  
“Get OFF ME!” he demanded. He used blue magic on Dream, sending him flying to the ceiling. “Huh. I dunno why I didn’t do that before.”  
  
“Haven’t you had enough?” Dream asked, still up on the ceiling. Cross released him and he slammed into the floor.  
  
“Maybe, this is getting boring really quickly,” Cross said. “Y’know, I’m done. I’m gonna go do something more worth my time.”  
  
“Yeah. You should,” Dream muttered, pushing himself to his feet and wincing as he wiped blood from his nose. “Anything is more worth someone’s time than causing violent drama over something completely fucking fictional.”  
  
Cross didn’t reply, seeming to be ignoring him at this point. Dream furrowed his brow, heading up the stairs as quickly as he could and shutting himself in the bathroom.  
  
He immediately collapsed on the floor, clutching at his gut around where Cross had hit him. It still hurt like hell. He lay there for a little while, partially to recuperate from the experience entirely, but also because of the pain.  
  
“Okay… Okay, we’re good… Everything is fine…” he reassured himself. He flinched as he pushed himself back up.  
  
He needed more surrounding positive energy to heal himself, but that proved to be rather difficult when the only other person in the house right then was Cross.  
  
And he needed positive energy to teleport somewhere else, too.  
  
“Auuuugh…” he groaned, throwing his head back over the edge of the tub.  
  
He wasn’t going to call anyone for help. He _couldn't_. Cross may have been being a dick, but the last thing he wanted to do was make himself look exactly how Cross already envisioned him, even if doing that was an entirely plausible thing to do.  
  
He’d survived worse than this, right?  
  
He pulled an icepack out of the medical cabinet and set it against his general area of pain. Okay, a lot of things hurt, but it was mostly around his center torso area, so there it went.  
  
Holding onto the edge of the sink, he struggled to pull himself back up. Pulling out a cloth, he cleaned himself up as best he could before he made his way back to his room where he collapsed on his bed.  
  
He could just sleep it off…

* * *

Cross was sitting at his computer, acting like nothing was wrong, when his phone rang.  
  
“Y’ello,” he said, picking it up.  
  
“Cross?” Nightmare started from the other side. “There’s something we need to talk about really fast.”  
  
“What’s up?” he asked.  
  
“I know you and Dream are going to be alone in the house for a couple days,” Nightmare said. “And I know we kinda went over this, but… I mean it. Try not to hurt each other. You guys should try harder to get along. Because you really don’t seem to try, and that’s concerning.”  
  
Cross blinked, glancing around for little reason. “Uh… yeah.”  
  
“Really. I’m gonna be honest here. If you actually hurt Dream, I will fuck you up. I know Dream isn’t perfect but he’s my brother and I love him. Capiche?”  
  
“You don’t trust me?” Cross asked.  
  
“I should be able to trust you. You’re my friend. So please, for the love of god, don’t make me feel like I can’t,” Nightmare answered.  
  
“Uh… I… of course…” Cross stammered. “Sorry for being a shitty friend…”  
  
“Don’t worry about it too much… just… try to get along with Dream, okay? Talk to you later.” He didn’t wait for a response. The line went dead.  
  
That was… unexpected. And oddly relevant.  
  
“… shit,” Cross grumbled. “Too late.”  
  
Dream was definitely going to bruise after that beating, wasn’t he? God, Cross couldn’t leave him like that, it could be tied back to him.  
  
He was feeling bad for needing to deceive Nightmare right off the bat, but who was he kidding. He fucked over their friendship the moment he started antagonizing Dream. And he didn’t feel bad about that. He DID feel bad about lying to Nightmare, though.  
  
Well, this was a problem.  
  
Maybe Nightmare was right about all this. Maybe even Dream was right to some extent. Cross was being way too immature about this. So many conflicts that could’ve been avoided if they hadn’t dragged on quite so long… it was true. Cross could hardly stand Dream. But perhaps this was getting tiring, after all.  
  
Besides, he’d already beat Dream up, and he’d been wanting to do that for a while. Maybe now it would be easier to dig into conflict a little less now that he’d gotten some of that pent up frustration out.  
  
In any case, though, Cross couldn’t let Dream’s injuries show. He needed someone to heal him to make sure that didn’t happen. And Dream couldn’t do it himself, because Cross in the very least knew that Dream needed a source of happy energy or whatever in order to use his powers.  
  
Great. That would mean Cross would need to do it himself.  
  
“Oh hell no,” he grumbled. He couldn’t make himself look like he was doing anything apologetic! He wouldn’t be!  
  
Cross paused.  
  
Or maybe…  
  
… that would be to his advantage?  
  
If he did something ‘nice’ for Dream, maybe he could avoid more conflict and look like he was getting along better with him THEREFORE earning Nightmare’s approval.  
  
But that would mean even more lies, wouldn’t it.  
  
What good even was it? His entire life had virtually been a lie, there would literally be no difference. Cross groaned, rising to his feet and leaving the room.  
  
Time for a little humiliation.

* * *

Much to his surprise, Dream was already out like a light when he got upstairs. He was asleep on his bed, still holding the icepack against himself. His shirt was lifted slightly, the pack on his bare skin. It was amazing how quickly he seemed to have fallen asleep.  
  
At least Cross was right; Dream hadn’t been able to heal himself.  
  
Cross crept closer, trying to make as little noise as possible. He froze in place as Dream shifted, but he didn’t wake up.  
  
Maybe if he was lucky, he could get this over with while Dream was still sleeping and he wouldn’t even have to do any of the talking part. That would’ve been nice.  
  
Cross slowly moved Dream’s hand out of the way, entirely ready to teleport away if Dream woke up. Thankfully, he didn’t.  
  
He moved the icepack, glancing back and forth between it and Dream’s face. He exhaled steadily, his hand almost shaking as he placed it where the pack was, fingers first. Which happened to be on some nicely toned muscles.  
  
This was so awful.  
  
He jolted as Dream unconsciously let out a soft moan in reaction to the contact.  
  
“ _Come on dude, just do it…_ ” Cross thought, unable to focus on anything but his own anxiety.  
  
He pressed his hand down just a little bit and magic started to emit from it. He looked up at Dream’s face, seeing that he looked like he was in a bit of pain, but his expression soon relaxed.  
  
Cross made himself breathe steadily as he continued to heal Dream, making sure not to move suddenly.  
  
He didn’t notice when one of Dream’s arms started to inch up and suddenly touched his hand.  
  
Cross completely froze up. One of Dream’s eyes cracked open. He didn’t say anything, both eyes then open, yet narrowly. His gaze fell down to Cross’s hand that was rested on his exposed stomach.  
  
“C…ross…?” he started.  
  
His eyes suddenly went wide, and he grabbed Cross’s wrist, forcing it away.  
  
“What the hell are you doing?!” he yelled, trying to sit up, but flinching.  
  
“I’m healing you! Good god, sit still!” Cross told him, pulling his hand away and putting it back as he held Dream down by his shoulder with the other hand.  
  
“The fuck you are! I don’t need you to heal me, you psycho!” Dream snapped, trying to push Cross away.  
  
“Yes you DO!” Cross insisted, pushing more weight onto him. “I shouldn’t have done that, okay? I know you’re in pain!”  
  
“You would do it again! I know you would!” Dream hissed. He winced as Cross pressed his fingertips down slightly onto his bruises. “You probably just… are trying to get out of trouble!”  
  
“Would you just shut up and let me help you?!” Cross demanded.  
  
“You’re totally trying to get out of trouble, aren’t you?! Well for once I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of that–!”  
  
Cross growled, switching to using blue magic to hold Dream down and starting to heal with both hands to see if that would speed it up. He could feel his magic ability steadily draining, but he  _would_ go through with this.  
  
“Get… your h-hands… off me!” Dream demanded, no longer able to move easily as his body’s weight increased.  
  
“Shut up and stop being so damn resistant,” Cross said. “God. What is wrong with you.”  
  
“What’s wrong with _you_?!” Dream yelled.  
  
“Why is this taking so long? Geez, this is getting ridiculous,” Cross grumbled. “It would help if I knew exactly where it hurt. Tell me.”  
  
“No!” Dream shouted. “Besides, EVERYWHERE hurts! You dropped me on the floor from nine feet up!”  
  
“Okay, plan B,” Cross said. Dream gasped as Cross stuck his hand further up and put it around where his heart was. Even though he was using blue magic, Cross was still basically straddling him.  
  
Dream forced his arm up, putting it on Cross’s shoulder, still attempting to fight him. “Do you mind?! Cross, stop this right now! Are you even paying attention to what you’re doing?!”  
  
“Of course… I’m paying attention…!” Cross replied angrily, already sounding tired from magic overuse.  
  
“You’re going to hurt yourself!”  
  
“Then stop RESISTING so this is easier for me! I think one of the reasons this is taking so long is because you won’t accept my damn magic!”  
  
“I DON’T WANT IT!”  
  
“TAKE IT, BITCH!”  
  
“YOU CAN’T MAKE ME!”  
  
“God dammit Dream, I’m trying to fuckin’ help you and you just… turn…” Cross suddenly collapsed, falling directly onto Dream. The futile healing stopped and Dream was free from his magic.  
  
“Oh shit,” Dream said, trying to sit up while and staring at the young adult laying across him. “Cross?”  
  
“Oh god, you did this to me,” Cross mumbled, almost inaudibly. He wasn’t moving. “Fuck you, Dream.”  
  
“You did that to you! For crying out loud, Cross–“  
  
“My blood is on your hands. Ink will avenge me.”  
  
“What the actual hell are you talking about??” Dream asked, trying to push him off.  
  
“I think part of me shut down from that overuse,” Cross said. “Like… why was I exerting so much emotion into that… I feel like I’m suddenly experiencing a caffeine crash or something…”  
  
“Oh, great,” Dream grumbled. He succeeded in pushing Cross up, standing up and pulling him to his feet. He started falling forward, Dream grunting as he caught him. “Can you at least try to stand?!”  
  
“My legs feel like they’re asleep…” Cross said. “Everything is asleep… Why…”  
  
“Welcome to the consequences of overusing magic, dimwit,” Dream told him, attempting to walk. “That’s why you have to be careful with healing magic. It totally drains you.”  
  
“Should’ve just cooperated, Dream…” Cross stated, barely being dragged.  
  
“You should’ve minded your own business!” Dream exclaimed. “I am not fooled by your intentions! Hell, I would literally bet that Nightmare called you to make sure you hadn’t gotten into trouble already and you were like _oh shit I just beat up Dream better hide the evidence_!”  
  
“That’s… that’s a pile of… shit. You have no idea. Maybe I like… actually felt bad or somethin’.”  
  
“I feel inclined to doubt that.”  
  
Dream brought Cross to his room, letting go of him right next to his bed. Still unable to support himself, Cross fell forward and face planted onto it.  
  
“Good fuckin’ night,” Dream said, closing the door and leaving Cross alone.  
  
Using the little strength he had left, Cross pushed himself over and stared up at the ceiling from his bed.  
  
Well that didn’t work.  
  
Cross looked down at his hands, suddenly now recalling the fact that he’d been putting his hands all over Dream. Like… in his shirt.  
  
His fingers twitched, and heat rushed to his face, which he instinctively covered up with his hands. Okay, what? He knew that was going to be humiliating but there wasn’t supposed to be any emotional aftermath!  
  
Besides, Dream was _not_ even as built as he was. He probably just ended up like that by chance and not even by actually working out! There he was again, getting things without even trying and just having things handed to him, like his looks, like the pretty boy he was–  
  
God, why was he suddenly so anxious? Dream was a self-entitled little prick who acted like he deserved things just because he suffered, and like Cross was obligated to be nice to him. And then when he finally did try to do something nice for him, Dream quite violently turned him away!  
  
The stupid pipsqueak was so unpredictable, so annoying, never got off his back, had all these expectations, was so… resilient… defiant… and that look in his eyes when he was so determined to win something or fight him…  
  
Cross picked up a pillow and started chewing on it.  
  
He was suddenly feeling a lot of questionable and ironic things that were leaving him less than comfortable. The more he thought about Dream, the more anxious he felt–  
  
–what was even happening. He forced out some laughs before covering his face with the pillow and screaming into it.  
  
NO.  
  
No, he didn’t like Dream. He knew for a _fact_ that he didn’t. He most certainly ENJOYED beating him up earlier!  
  
… but holding him down later, touching him like that…  
  
… okay he may have enjoyed that just as much, which was a problem. Did that make him a sadist? Or was he a masochist for subjecting himself to this mental suffering?  
  
As Cross was thinking about all this, he didn’t know Dream was standing outside the door, a somewhat concerned look on his face.  
  
He didn’t know what Cross was thinking, but he knew how he was feeling, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was comfortable with it.  
  
He felt his stomach drop as he realized this was just as he predicted.  
  
It was the shipping forces. This was their _plan_.  
  
Cross gave off feelings of anxiety on a regular basis, to the point where Dream wondered if he had an anxiety disorder of some kind, but this was enough to make Dream at least somewhat certain of what it was about.  
  
Also, he screamed into a pillow, and Nightmare did the exact same thing when he realized he liked Ink.  
  
This was bad.

* * *

The moment Cross was able to actually move again, he scrambled to his feet to get to his table. He fell on his face in the process, but he was determined.  
  
He clawed his way up into the chair, sitting down and exhaling an unnecessarily large breath. He opened up his computer, making a new word document.  
  
He still refused to believe that he was even attracted to that stupid light guardian. And now, he was going to make a list of every reason why he disliked him to convince himself.  
  
_List of reasons why Dream is a shithole dirtbag_ , he wrote at the top.  
  
_1 - he thinks he’s entitled to everythin_  
  
Cross paused.  
  
Wait a second. Did Dream, like… ever actually do that? Or say anything like that? What if all people felt like they were some level of entitled? What if it was all in Cross’s head all along?  
  
Cross put his head on his desk, closing his computer. Okay, this wasn’t working. His thoughts weren’t working properly.  
  
What was he doing again?  
  
Maybe he was still crashed from the overusage. He felt so tired…  
  
Cross turned his head slightly, watching his own hand as he ran a finger over his desk. Why did he even bother? This was probably just some passing thought that he got too obsessed with. It would go away, right?  
  
Cross exhaled steadily, his breath coming out in shudders from his thoughts alone. They were multiplying into more problematic rather than going away.  
  
He really wanted to hold Dream down again… wow. He had some strange interests.  
  
Cross stood up, walking back towards his bed and letting himself fall back onto it. Now he just wanted to sleep. No more of this.  
  
It didn’t take him long to drift off.

* * *

“Cross… Cross, stop struggling, dammit.”  
  
“Dream?? Wait, what–what are you–“  
  
“Did you really think I was just going to let what you did slide? There are consequences for things like that.”  
  
Cross found himself unable to move. His strength had disappeared, and he started feeling dizzy. He let out a quiet moan as the one on top of him ran his tongue down his neck.  
  
“You’re very mistaken, Cross… especially about me. And I won’t have this anymore.”  
  
Cross gasped as the smaller one bit him. For some bizarre reason, it didn’t hurt at all, only feeling extremely pleasurable. He felt hands dig up his shirt and more kisses down his neck. His vision was getting blurry and his ability to focus decreased, leaving only him and the sensations being inflicted on him. He almost felt a hand slip further down–  
  
His eyes shot open and he found himself lying in his bed once again.  
  
Was that…  
  
“ _Oh god_ ,” Cross thought, bringing his hand to his face. It was undeniably red… er, purple–he could feel how hot it was.  
  
This was the end. His goddamn feelings were going to _kill him_.  
  
_No, no, no, no, no–_  
  
The door of his room opened. Dream stood there, his eyes wide.  
  
He looked… worried.  
  
“Are you all right?” he asked.  
  
“G…go…” Cross stuttered, sitting up, but looking at Dream, he couldn’t get the words to come out. He couldn’t even look straight at Dream, it was making it worse. “Ah, I–oh god–” His breathing grew frantic, and he started clawing at his legs.  
  
Dream didn’t hesitate in racing to his side. He picked up a nearby blanket and put it over him, sitting down next to him. “Hey. You’re gonna be okay. Keep it together.”  
  
Cross jolted as Dream put his hand on his back and started to rub it. He soon relaxed into it though, feeling himself calm down a little.  
  
He almost forgot that the one sitting next to him was someone he’d always told himself he hated.  
  
“It’s all right… you’re going to be fine…” Dream said. “Breathe.”  
  
They were there for a few minutes, Dream staying until Cross’s breathing slowed down and his body relaxed. When Cross finally got himself under control, some tears escaped his eyes. He promptly wiped them away with his sleeve.  
  
“Are you feeling better?” Dream asked.  
  
Cross was silent for a few moments.  
  
“… why are you here?” he asked. “What reason… do you have?”  
  
“I couldn’t leave you like this, you know,” Dream told him. “The moment you woke up… I won’t ask what it was, but if it was enough to induce panic… well. I wouldn’t… yeah.”  
  
“… Even after what happened…” Cross mumbled.  
  
The room was quiet. Although, perhaps not in their heads. Cross could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and Dream was still recognizing that strange feeling from him.  
  
“Yo, Dream…” Cross started after a short while. “… why is it like this…?”  
  
“Like what?” Dream asked.  
  
“I’m supposed to hate you…” Cross said, choking out a few laughs.  
  
Dream blinked. “You… don’t have to, y’know. I think it would be a lot better if we… well, if we–”  
  
Cross suddenly turned his head, abruptly leaning towards Dream and shoddily planting his lips on the other’s for just a moment.  
  
“… ohhh my god,” Dream said, frozen in place.  
  
Cross turned away, his face about as purple as a fucking eggplant. He recoiled into the blanket over his shoulders, hiding his head in it.  
  
“Bad idea, bad idea, bad fucking idea,” he mumbled to himself from inside it.  
  
“Dude, calm down,” Dream told him. “Come on, you just calmed down and everything.”  
  
Cross poked his head out of his blanket shell, only exposing the top half of his head. “Why are you so _calm_?” he asked. “Don’t be calm! It’s frustrating! I fucking kissed you! This is not a thing to be calm about!”  
  
“Yes it is, Cross, calm your tits,” Dream replied. “Let’s talk about this like adults.”  
  
Though internally, he may have been a little less than calm.  
  
“I don’t want to!” Cross told him. “You’re supposed to freak out and like… make your feelings really obvious!”  
  
Dream took a deep breath. “Cross, we’re not fifteen.”  
  
“How am I supposed to understand what’s going on if you’re not emoting?!”  
  
“Oh my god–I’m–I’m trying to stay calm on purpose, all right?” Dream said. “This won’t end well if we both freak out again.”  
  
Cross frowned under his blanket, covering his head with it again. Dream let out a huff of air, pulling up the front of it. Cross pulled it back down.  
  
“Cross, please, you’re acting like a kid.”  
  
Cross slowly lifted the front of the blanket, pouting behind his blanket shell. A smile twitched on Dream’s face.  
  
What the hell, Cross was not allowed to be cute. It didn’t make sense.  
  
Suddenly, he didn’t look like the same person who had literally beat the shit out of him and assaulted him later. Why was that? He was just… sort of cute?  
  
Completely forgetting about his prior concerns regarding why this may have been happening, Dream thought for a moment.  
  
… what was the worst that could happen. He could play a little.  
  
“You know, you kind of suck at kissing,” Dream told him.  
  
“Well–it’s because–th-there’s no way I–“ Cross stammered. “I… haven’t…” He had already returned to an incoherent mess.  
  
“Have you never kissed anyone before?” Dream asked, now actually intrigued. “Oh, _Cross_.”  
  
“Sh-shutup!!” Cross snapped, his face lighting up again.  
  
Dream pulled the top of the blanket off of Cross’s head. Even his ears were slightly purple by now. “Maybe I could teach you a little,” Dream said, reaching up and putting his hand on Cross’s cheek.  
  
“Wh–what–?!”  
  
Dream leaned in, closing the distance between them yet again. He kissed Cross tenderly, a kiss that Cross was having a hard time following. Cross simply gave up and melted into it.  
  
“… so, how was that?” Dream asked.  
  
“Shut the fuck up…” Cross grumbled under his breath, still flustered. He looked down for a few moments, organizing his thoughts. “Look Dream, what I was doin’ earlier… like, everything… that was fucked up… I won’t try to justify it…”  
  
“You’re right, it was fucked up,” Dream said flatly.  
  
Cross’s mouth twitched. “So… I’m… I-I… I’m… so…” He coughed. “I’m sorry, okay.”  
  
Dream smiled just a little. He closed his eyes for a moment, gently running his fingers through Cross’s short hair. “It’s all right. I forgive you.” He paused for a moment. “And uh… if I did anything that’s irking you, I’m sorry too.”  
  
“No, um… you didn’t,” Cross told him. “Well, unless the overusage thing counts. No, I was being fuckin’ stupid. Although I would like to blame it on you.”  
  
Dream let out a laugh. “Yeah, how rude of me to get injured in the first place and control you into using too much magic.”  
  
Cross stuck his tongue out.  
  
“Well, I need to go take some cookies out of the oven,” Dream said, starting to stand up, but Cross grabbed his arm and stood up with him. He pulled Dream into him, leaning down and kissing him gently. It wasn’t as bad as the first time.  
  
Before Dream could say anything, Cross suddenly fell backwards. “Oh god, I stood up too fast,” he said.  
  
Dream rolled his eyes. He leaned forward and ruffled Cross’s hair. “Come to the kitchen if you want cookies, dumbass.”  
  
After Dream left the room, Cross grabbed the nearest pillow and shoved it in his face.  
  
Holy shit.  
  
Cross did indeed feel like he had reverted into a teenager by then.


	2. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cross is having a crisis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't exactly intend to make this a series of some kind, but I did end up writing more of this (that I admittedly kinda forgot about), so take this correlated "some time in the future" oneshot.

“So…” Nightmare started, glancing over at Cross, who was currently staring into the microwave waiting for popcorn. “I have a question, Dream.”  
  
“What’s up?” Dream asked. He and Nightmare were settled on the living room couch, waiting for a few snacks to cook before watching a movie.  
  
“About you and Cross.”  
  
Dream diverted his gaze. “Uh…”  
  
“What exactly is your relationship at this point?” Nightmare asked. “I mean, I can see it has _improved_ , but sometimes you seem…”  
  
“Uncharacteristically close?” Dream finished Nightmare’s sentence for him as he trailed off.  
  
“Seriously, what happened?” Nightmare asked, letting out a laugh. “I still hear you guys screaming at each other from time to time but _occasionally_ it seems to be for different reasons. Is it some kind of convoluted love-hate thing?”  
  
Dream looked away, the faintest of yellow dusting his cheeks. “Uh… sort of… I don’t really know what it is, either.”  
  
“Maybe you guys should talk about it,” Nightmare suggested.  
  
“Maybe…” Dream replied, leaning into his hand.  
  
He wouldn’t admit, that in spite of what had happened between them to initiate all this starting out as an experiment for him, he was seriously growing to like Cross. Sure, Cross was petty, impulsive and kind of an asshole sometimes, but Dream was starting to see another side of him that had long since been bottled up.  
  
Plus, seeing beyond all of the past issues between the two of them, Cross was unwittingly kind of cute sometimes. They had never talked about what was actually between them at this point, but they both just kind of went with it, and lately, they were getting more touchy feely with each other without putting much thought into it. It just… happened.  
  
Dream looked over into the kitchen, where the microwave had now gone off and Cross was pouring popcorn into a bowl.  
  
Cross was the very definition of a tough type that secretly had no idea what he was doing, and Dream enjoyed making fun of him for that far too much.  
  
In spite of how haphazardly close they were becoming, Cross still seemed to have an idea drilled in his head that everything about their relationship was a secret, like it wasn’t blatantly obvious already to everyone else living there. As such, he refused to do anything openly, and would resort to attempted subtleties like holding hands under tables and touches disguised to have other meanings. Then, they would suddenly be alone and somehow end up in a really heated make-out session by some very unrelated build-up. It almost always happened because of some argument where they grew distracted by each other.  
  
Dream had never really thought to complain. He thought it was kind of fun, even if everyone knew something was going on at this point. He had a hard time saying they hated each other anymore, but they did have a very aggressive way of communicating.  
  
This probably wasn’t the best thing to think about seeing as how they were about to watch a movie, and it would probably occupy his thoughts the entire time, but at that point there wasn’t much that could be done about it.  
  
Cross sat down between Dream and Nightmare, and as he did this, the oven went off and Nightmare got up to take the remainder of their snacks out that he had been preparing. As he passed through the doorway, his back turned, Dream let out an amused huff and put his hand on top of Cross’s, squeezing slightly.  
  
Cross looked over at him for a moment, his cheeks clearly turning purple.  
  
“Wh…at are you doing,” he mumbled, barely loud enough to be heard. His cheeks grew darker as Dream turned his head with his other hand and gave him a quick kiss, rebounding before Nightmare could walk in again.  
  
“I had to,” Dream whispered.  
  
“Wh-why? Nightmare could–!” Cross stammered.  
  
“Trust me. You’re fine.”  
  
Cross furrowed his brow, looking into the kitchen nervously. “… Does he know?” he asked quietly. He whipped his head back towards Dream. “Did you tell him?” A bit of aggression was starting rise in his tone.  
  
“No, but to be frank, we’re hardly even being subtle at this point,” Dream told him. “Anyone could figure it out.”  
  
Cross looked down, growing more flustered. “Dammit,” he grumbled.  
  
“I really don’t think it’s the right thing to be secretive, though,” Dream said, staying quiet. “Why _don’t_ we just say something?”  
  
“Be… because…” Cross started, “because everyone will laugh at me?”  
  
“So?” Dream asked. “Of course it’s funny. We hated each other’s guts, dude.”  
  
Cross didn’t respond. He just let out a noise, turning his head even more away. He jolted slightly as Dream put a hand on his back.  
  
“What?”  
  
“… I dunno. I don’t feel good,” Cross mumbled. He was starting to look a bit spaced out, gaze occasionally darting to Nightmare.  
  
“Are you anxious?” Dream asked, taking his hand away. He could sense it. “How can I help?”  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
Nightmare finally came back in through the doorway, carrying an unnecessarily extravagant tray of junk food. He laid it on the table next to the couch, sitting down on the end.  
  
“Are you all right?” Nightmare asked Cross. Cross didn’t respond, flopping forward and putting his head on his own lap. “Hey. Cross.”  
  
He put his hand on a spot around Cross’s shoulder and raised an eyebrow. There didn’t seem to be too much negative energy. In fact, it was fairly ambiguous, mostly occupied by nondescript anxiety, albeit strangely not negative.  
  
“Are you sick?” Nightmare asked.  
  
Cross sat back up slowly, looking less than pleased. “I don’t know, okay?” he said, probably snappier than intended. “It’s just random. Don’t worry about it.”  
  
“Do you uh… think my aura could help?” Dream suggested in spite of his protests.  
  
“ **No** ,” Cross immediately snapped back at him. Seeing the startled expression on Dream’s face, Cross realized what he’d done. “I mean–uh–no. I said don’t worry. It’ll go away.”  
  
The three of them were quiet. Unsure of what else to do, Nightmare picked up the remote and turned the movie on.

* * *

Cross had been quiet for most of the time they were watching the movie. He kept glancing over at Dream sporadically, his gaze diverting every time Dream caught him staring. Most of the time he was eating, and at a certain point, it was evident that he may have been doing it for another reason than just for the sake of eating. Dream and Nightmare could both sense his distress increasing, and the fact that Cross knew they could do that only made him more distressed.  
  
The movie ended.  
  
“Cross, I think you should lay down or something,” Nightmare told him.  
  
“I _said_ don’t worry about me!” Cross declared, forgetting to be mindful of his volume before catching himself. “I’m… fine! Whatever. Maybe I’m not feeling well.”  
  
He stood up in a huff, walking towards the doorway. He momentarily paused, turning back and grabbing a bag of chips before leaving and heading up the stairs.  
  
“… Dream–” Nightmare started, looking over at the other.  
  
“Yeah yeah, I’m on it,” Dream interrupted him, throwing himself forward and following Cross.  
  
Nightmare sighed.  
  
They really needed to talk this out, didn’t they.

* * *

“Cross,” Dream started, standing outside of Cross’s locked door. “Cross. Open the door.”  
  
“What do you want,” Cross grumbled from inside.  
  
“What’s wrong with you?” Dream asked him.  
  
“Nothing!” Cross retorted.  
  
“Then open the damn door! We have shit to talk about!”  
  
“I don’t want to!”  
  
“God dammit Cross,” Dream mumbled. He pulled a unwound paperclip out of his pocket and started picking the door lock.  
  
“Are you fucking–” Cross started. Dream could hear him stumbling over to the door inside the room. “You asshole! This is an invasion of my privacy!”  
  
The door clicked fairly quickly, no thanks to the lock being cheap. Dream threw his weight into the door, grunting as Cross pushed it in the opposite direction.  
  
“Why the hell are you being so immature?!” Dream demanded.  
  
“I don’t want to have this conversation right now!” Cross responded. “I know what you want to talk about and I’m not ready to make it complicated!”  
  
“What, _us_?” Dream asked him, continuing to push on the door, talking through the small crack between it and the frame. “Cross, we literally need to! You don’t even realize how much it’s been bugging me!”  
  
Cross let out a frustrated sound, moving away from the door. Dream stumbled as the door suddenly opened, and he fell directly into the monochromatic one on the other side, who caught him by the shoulders. Cross promptly closed the door and locked it again.  
  
His fingers sat on Dream’s shoulders for a few lengthy moments before he snapped out of his trance and recoiled them.  
  
“… Dream, I don’t want anything to be complicated,” Cross told him, speaking under his breath. “I just… want it to be like this.”  
  
“Why?” Dream asked.  
  
Cross was quiet, diverting his gaze. “… I’m scared.”  
  
Dream let out a bit of a disbelieving laugh. “Of what?”  
  
“I… I don’t fucking know. I’m so sick of not being able to understand my own head.”  
  
“Cross, this is you,” Dream told him. “You’re so impulsive all the time. Why would you be afraid of something as little as this?”  
  
Cross didn’t respond. His gaze rose again as Dream put a hand on his cheek. Surprisingly, he didn’t move.  
  
“Sometimes even I don’t understand how I feel about things,” Dream continued. “And I’m fucking immortal.”  
  
Cross let out an amused huff, but his expression didn’t change.  
  
“And one of these things I don’t understand?” Dream spoke, brushing his thumb against Cross’s cheekbone. “I don’t know why I love you.”  
  
Cross’s eyes opened a little more, heat rising slightly to his face. His mouth was open slightly, entirely frozen as the words loaded in his mind.  
  
“I–” Cross stammered. He raised his hand to his mouth, covering it. His eyes twitched slightly as they stung, tears gradually starting to fall from them. “I… oh god. Why am I crying.”  
  
“I dunno, why are you?” Dream asked him, flashing a smile.  
  
“I…” Cross started again. He was looking Dream in the eyes, almost shaking. “… I love you,” he finally said.  
  
They leaned closer to each other quietly until their lips brushed.  
  
“I love you,” Cross said again.  
  
Dream smiled slightly, looking up at the one in front of him. He put his hands behind his neck, leaning close again. “… And I love you,” he affirmed.  
  
Their lips met again.  
  
“… Oh my god, this is so sappy,” Cross mumbled.  
  
“Sappy can be good,” Dream told him. “But chances are it won’t last. I mean, you did say you wanted to keep things more as they were… did you not?” Dream grabbed Cross by his hoodie strings, pulling him down.  
  
Cross’s face went purple. “U-u-uhh–” he stammered. Dream smashed his lips against Cross’s again, showing no mercy. It continued until they were both out of breath, both of their eyes falling partially shut as it happened. Dream’s hands had shifted their way over Cross’s jacket all the while, finding a spot on his chest.  
  
Dream glanced over to the bed in the room for a split second. Curious, Cross’s gaze had followed his, and seeing where Dream’s eyes had set, the purple on Cross’s face became darker.  
  
“… not if you don’t want,” Dream told him in a low voice, looking Cross straight in the eyes.  
  
Cross was still breathing a bit heavily from the kiss. He zoned out for a moment, becoming hyper aware of Dream’s hands on him, and becoming lost in the golden gaze of the shorter one.  
  
He was nervous as hell, but damn right he wanted it.  
  
“… Try me,” Cross told him. Dream smirked, putting his hand behind Cross’s head and bringing him back down for another kiss. He started to lead Cross over in the direction of the bed, pushing him slightly. Suddenly, Dream felt the sensation of hands on his sides, sliding up in a rather abrupt way as the two of them moved.  
  
Dream put his hands on Cross’s, giving him a look from the close distance. “Oh, no,” he said. “You’re letting me do this.”  
  
“But, I–“ Cross stammered.  
  
“Have never had sex before,” Dream finished his sentence for him. Cross’s cheeks grew purple again. “Trust me, it’s better this way.”  
  
Cross let out a disgruntled noise. His leg hit the side of the bed as they moved, Dream somewhat aggressively backing him up to the wall as their lips collided again. Dream’s hands made their way from the bed to the tops of Cross’s rested hands, feeling them shaking slightly.  
  
“Relax,” Dream told him, closing his hands around them. “If I do anything you don’t like, you can tell me.” He started to plant gentle kisses down the other’s neck.  
  
Cross shuddered slightly from the pleasant feeling. “I… can hardly even believe this is real,” he quietly mumbled.  
  
“You better believe it,” Dream replied, smiling.


End file.
